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Stella Stevens: “I had the pleasure to work with a lot of great directors, but Vincente Minnelli was just wonderful”

A Golden Globe winner as Most Promising Newcomer for her screen debut in Frank Tashlin’s 1959 romantic comedy “Say One For Me” – along with Tuesday Weld, Angie Dickinson and Janet Munro – actress Stella Stevens (b. 1938) has always been one of the screen’s most prominent leading ladies of the 1960s and 1970s. With “The Nutty Professor” (1963) as a major highlight of her long career, the 78-year-old blonde kept on acting for many years in supporting roles and various genres, but to this day she’s still best remembered as one of the most delightful comediennes of her heyday. Beginning at 20th Century Fox, she soon moved to Paramount to appear in “Li’l Abner” (1959), and where she signed a five-year contract which marked the beginning of her screen career.

Melvin Frank’s “Li’l Abner” (1959) paved the way for her next films such as John Cassavetes’ “Too Late Blues” co-starring Bobby Darin, “Man-Trap” (both 1961) with Jeffrey Hunter and David Janssen, and then came “Girls! Girls! Girls!” (1962) with Elvis Presley – incidentally, all co-stars mentioned here all died prematurely – before she was cast to appear in “The Nutty Professor” (1963).

Hollywood casting agent Marvin Paige, film-wise my partner in crime for many years, had introduced me to Ms. Stevens in 2006 when this interview was conducted at her Beverly Hills home. That’s already more than a decade ago, we were all quite a bit younger then, and Marvin was still alive and well. Anyone who knew him – which is nearly the entire motion picture industry – has great memories and wonderful stories to tell about him.

During this interview, Ms. Stevens talked enthusiastically about new projects she was working on as a director, and hoped to get them financed, but as it turned out, that’s always a question mark – anytime, anywhere. The competition is tough, young people replace older generations of actors, and even they have to wait and see what their chances will be like in the near future.

Miss Stevens, do you remember the early start of your career in movies?

I do, the first director I worked with, was Frank Tashlin [“Say One For Me”], he was a writer-director, and that’s who I liked to work with – a writer-director. He was sort of my mentor, and later he introduced me to Jerry Lewis. He and Jerry had done many films together. For me, it all started when I did “Li’l Abner” [1959]. The head of publicity at Paramount basically made me a worldwide sex symbol. He had me doing a lot of lay-outs with photographers – indoors, outdoors, here and there – being seen in different places, going to the best restaurants, meeting with wonderful actors and directors… those were the golden years of Hollywood. It was a very exciting time.

Was “Girls! Girls! Girls!” [1962] your first introduction to a major audience? Directed by screen veteran Norman Taurog and starring Elvis Presley while still at the peak of his popularity, I suppose it gave your career a boost?

I wouldn’t say that, really. I didn’t want to do this film, but I was under contract to Hal Wallis to do one more film. Plus I was offered a movie with Montgomery Clift if I did this one, so that was the only reason for me to through with it. But it was a very bad experience for me. I didn’t want to do the movie, and I was treated pretty badly. Norman Taurog, a screen veteran as you say, he screamed his lungs out at me all the time, so it was a very embarrassing and humiliating time. Fortunately for me, it was only six days’ work.

What about Elvis Presley, did he support you in any way?

Well, he was nice, he was someone you could talk to. Since I wasn’t too fond of the film myself, I asked him why he did these kind of movies. He pondered and said, ‘Don’t knock success, Stella.’ And the film with Montgomery Clift I was promised to do, that turned out to be “Too Late Blues” – with Bobby Darin [and directed by John Cassavetes]. Bobby was a very fine actor, but as you can imagine, he was no Montgomery Clift.

Like several of his contemporaries such as John Schlesinger or Sydney Pollack, John Cassavetes was known for his character driven stories about people and relationships. Did you learn anything from him on the set of “Too Late Blues”?

Absolutely, I was really convinced his working method served a purpose, and I hoped to work with him again – and with Gena Rowlands too [married to Cassavetes from 1954 until his death in 1989, she appeared in nine films directed by him]. I almost begged him to make a movie where I could work with her, but it didn’t happen. But he knew where I was, he knew where and how to reach me, so I guess if he really wanted me in one of his other films, he simply would have picked up the phone and called me. Maybe this adulation was only one-sided. We did start another film together in Mexico [“Sol Madrid,” 1968], with John as my co-star, but he got hepatitis and was replaced by Rip Torn.

Stella Stevens in a publicity still for “The Nutty Professor” (1963). Photograph: Marvin Paige Motion Picture and Television Archive

You then appeared with Jerry Lewis in “The Nutty Professor” (1963). How did this all start for you?

It’s very simple, I was under contract to Paramount in those days. Jerry Lewis had told the bosses at Paramount he wanted to cast the most beautiful ingénue working at the studio – or something like that – and so I got the gig. I really liked it. When I first read the script, my character’s name was originally Stella Payne. I thought it wasn’t such a great idea to play a character by the name of ‘pain.’ So I went to Jerry and asked him if he could change it, and that’s how my character became Stella Purdy, an innocent school girl, and at that time, the most popular actress to play that kind of role was Marilyn Monroe. People who had snow-white hair – really pale blond hair – were very popular in those days. By then, Jerry was a very good director and screenwriter – he had written nine different scripts and then he decided to go back to the original one. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but I know he did a lot of rewriting. Consequently, we all tried to make the characters he had created in the script special, wonderful, unique – and if you ask me, I do believe that’s why the film still holds up after all those years. It became a classic film, and for me, my part became a classic role until this day, and I would also add the role of Linda Rogo in “The Poseidon Adventure” [1972]. But even on TV, I had a classic role in the series “Bonanza” [1959-1973], playing a silent mute, in a segment called “Silent Thunder” [1960] which was directed by Robert Altman. It was the first thing he had ever done for television in color. So that’s three classics [laughs].

You made three films with Glenn Ford: “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father” (1963), “Advance to the Rear” (1964) and “Rage” (1966). Was he also one of your favorite co-stars?

He was just a wonderful actor, a sensitive and delicate artist, with a wonderful sense of humor. He could touch you – a little smile on his face, or a wink of an eye. And he never overacted; he always was a bit underplaying. That’s what he taught me: never push anything and hope that everything will be perfect. ‘Just relax, let it come out, and it would look fine on screen,’ he told me.

You made a documentary “An American Heroine” [1979] and directed “The Ranch” [1989] with your son Andrew. But if I’m correct, directing has always been a passion of yours. Were there any directors in particular that you liked?

My favorite was Vincente Minnelli. Period. We did “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father” (1963) together. I had the pleasure to work with a lot of great directors, but he was just wonderful. Another favorite of mine was George Marshall who had directed me in “Advance to the Rear” (1964), and when he was 81, I worked with him one more time on an episode of the TV series “Hec Ramsey” (1972). He was a great comedy director who could make anything funny. But for me, Jerry Lewis was very important when we were shooting “The Nutty Professor.” When we started working on that film, I told Jerry that Frank Tashlin had been teaching me how to be a director. So all the way through the movie, everything that went on, Jerry let me watch him at work and observe as much as I wanted. He took me to the dailies – I saw the best and the worst, the takes, the outtakes, all of them – and whenever I watched him at work, I could ask him anything and he’d take the time to answer me and explain everything. He just taught me how to direct a movie, and cinematographer Walt Kelley taught me all about lighting. Jerry always walked in early, and he was the last one to leave in the evening. Isn’t that something? Basically, everybody was helping me to teach me to make a film back then. If anyone would have given me a job to direct, I think I could have done it.

Stella Stevens in the early 1960s. Photograph: Marvin Paige Motion Picture and Television Archive

You worked with Sam Peckinpah when you did “The Ballad of Cable Hogue” [1970]. He was probably a different kind of director than you were used to?

Sam was okay, but he was tough to put up with. He did a good picture, though. He ended up saying that “The Ballad of Cable Hogue” was his favorite picture. If he wanted you in his film, he would tell you everything you wanted to hear. But he had an alcohol problem, he was a bitter man, knowing how talented he was and not being acknowledged by the studios he had worked for. The more it went on, the more he drank and the worse it got.

Do you think it affected the film? Because if it did, it doesn’t show.

I think it’s a good film, I like it. I also like “Ride the High Country” [1962] and “The Wild Bunch” [1969] a lot. He once told me, ‘The best way to direct is to pick the right actors for the role and let them do what they want.’ He really thought that typecasting was the best way to go. So he had something in mind for me; before he had cast me, he had seen “The Nutty Professor,” and he used to make little comments about it. In the end, Jerry did all he could to make me as big a star as he could, and Sam did exactly the same thing in his picture. But they were two different people.

“The Poseidon Adventure” [1972] turned out to be your biggest commercial success. How important has that film been in your career?

Very important. When I first read the script, I noticed that I died six pages before the end, and I told to my agent, “You know, the actress who plays the ‘fat lady’ in the movie, will get an Oscar nomination.” The role went to Shelley Winters, and she got an Academy Award nomination. But I’m glad I did “The Poseidon Adventure.” It had a lot of potential, we all saw that. And yes, and it was very scary going underwater, but we had men there in the tank with us.

To be honest, as agonizing as it was, it was a lot of fun. Also we had Ronald Neame as our director. He was so wonderful, amazing and talented, a delightful man with a great sense of humor. So, no matter how tough the work was, we did absolutely everything we could. There was never enough we could do for him. A few years ago I got him a good bottle of Dom Pérignon for his birthday and he used to come to some of those venture fan club luncheons to sign pictures – like pictures of him on the set, pointing his finger when we’re all looking while he’s telling us how to climb up the Christmas tree. And the money that he made, he gave it all to his favorite charity. He was just one of the sweetest and brightest young old men.